


dreamboy

by artaemin



Category: Dreamboy (Podcast), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Drama, Fate & Destiny, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Painplay, Plot Twists, Protests, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Surreal, Weird Plot Shit, Weirdness, Zoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artaemin/pseuds/artaemin
Summary: yoongi moves to a little town to take care of hoseok's cat while he's away. he was never supposed to end up with suspicious daily cakes, a hot crush, mean thirteen years old girl scouts that claim to not be girl scouts, horny nightmares, and a murderous zebra.
Relationships: Kim Taehyung | V/Min Yoongi | Suga
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	dreamboy

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: this fic is highly inspired by the podcast "dreamboy". no, you don't need to have listened to it in order to understand the fic. yes, i super recommend that you listen to it anyway cause it's fucking good  
> have fun! 
> 
> before you drive in: there are mentions of child death and animal death but they're super minor so i didn't tag them

there’s a box at his doorstep. it’s pastel pink and there’s a poorly done bow on top of it. overall it looks like an excuse of a present. yoongi too is at his doorstep, standing in the cold of the morning in boxers and an oversized grey shirt. well, technically it’s not his doorstep. his friend hoseok is out of town for work for some months and yoongi needed a break from the busy seoul life. thus, he offered to look over hoseok’s house, plants and cat. in jihangjae. why the hell would someone move to such a small city in the first place, that’s the question. that’s not a question yoongi could answer. 

anyway, back to the point. there’s a box at his -- well, hoseok’s -- doorstep. he didn’t order anything and as far as he knows neither did hoseok. warily, as if afraid there could be something dangerous inside, he crouches and takes the box in his hands. the chilly air that’s only alive at 6.30am on a tuesday is cold against his sleep thick skin. yoongi shivers. he takes a pause before opening the box, hand on the top, fingers playing with the ghastly bow. then, he thinks  _ fuck it _ and opens the box.

inside, there’s a cake. it’s homemade one, probably a birthday cake judging by the writing on top. “kim taehyung,” it says. yoongi stands up, box in his hands, and looks around the street hoping to see anything or anyone that would offer an explanation to this. except that it’s too early and hoseok’s house in a way too quiet neighbourhood. there’s no one there. the sky is still dark above his head, like an upside down abyss waiting to swallow him whole. the street lamps emit a shy yellow light. and then they don’t. and then, they do again. the lights start flickering and then they flicker quicker and quicker. until they go out. all of them. yoongi rushes inside and slams the door behind himself.

“who the fuck is kim taehyung?” he asks the house. the house, of course, doesn’t reply. he takes a mental note to call hoseok and ask him if he knows any kim taehyung. maybe it’s a neighbour and someone delivered the cake to the wrong address. he waddles to the kitchen and puts the box on the marble counter. something fuzzy headbutts his legs. yoongi looks down and hoseok’s fluffy grey cat is looking at him.

“hello, little mitzki,” he says as he crouches down to pet it. “should we have breakfast?” the cat meows in answer. yoongi takes it as a yes. as he walks around the kitchen, he recalls the weird dream he’s had last night. lately, he’s been having the same weird dream almost every night, it all started when he moved to jihangjae. he dreams that he’s underwater, floating in a seemingly infinite ocean. it’s dark and warm and almost peaceful. then, he starts feeling cold at his legs, until his entire body goes cold and he finally realizes that there’s something with him down there. the shadow moves just out of sight and, terrified, yoongi starts to move too, trying to swim away. but nothing happens. no matter how hard he tries he’s not moving, and the creature is getting closer. when he finally sees it, it looks like a sort of weird and gigantic ghastly fish, like something that can only exist in a nightmare. yoongi opens his mouth to scream but water fills him. he can feel it flow in his throat and fill his lungs. then, he wakes up. hard. and this is probably the weirdest part of the dream, the fact that when he wakes up from this dream his dick is always hard. 

“ugh,” yoongi complains, the sound melting into a loud groan. mitzki finishes its food, looks weirdly at yoongi and walks away. “i forgot to buy groceries, there’s nothing to eat.” fridge and cupboards are all empty. in the absence of lights they look bottomless and blue with morning. then, he remembers. “the cake.” he paddles to the counter and opens the box, eyeing the cake. “it technically isn’t mine,” he says out loud, “but before i can find out who kim taehyung is it’ll go to waste so i think it’d be okay for me to eat it. it’s probably the best decision, yeah.” and five minutes later he’s sitting on the couch, crumbs all over his shirt. he thinks about weird stuff. he thinks about how he wants to meet someone, to crumple his life until it looks like something entirely different, new. 

then, five minutes become two hours and, “shit! shit shit shit!” yoongi stands up and flies to the bathroom to get ready. he’s late for work. he’s taken a part-time job at his city’s amusement park and petting zoo. he still doesn’t understand how the two can work together and be one but here it is. he actually doesn’t work in the zoo part, he only runs the rollercoaster. a sad rusty little thing called  _ the jupiter’s moons _ which is about, well, jupiter’s moons. there supposedly is an exhibition mid rollercoaster but he’s not sure, he’s never been on it. all he does is action it and tell kids to keep their little arms for themselves.

when he flings himself outside, the laposts are all out. he supposes it’s only normal considering that it’s almost 9am but something about how they flickered this morning still gives him the creeps. before he starts to run towards the zoo, he’s sure he can hear a faint cussing coming from someone he can’t see. but a few seconds later he’s already on the other side of the street. except that yoongi isn’t a big fan of running or, physical movement in general, so mid-way he opts for a quick walking instead. 

and soon, there it is. pepper heights zoo. right outside the gates, there’s a poster for the new exhibition they’ll be opening next month.  _ the forgotten sea.  _ “how do you forget a whole sea?” yoongi asks himself. he meets his boss and owner of the zoo, seokjin, on his way to the rollercoaster. he smiles at him but looks pained. yoongi has heard some rumours about the place lacking funds. he wonders what would happen to all the animals if the zoo had to close. 

his shift goes well. as much as repeating the same sentences all over again for an entire day is synonym for well. a couple of kids complain about losing their stuffed toys and yoongi has to go find them, but apart from that nothing special happens. he spends the rest of the evening at the zoo, walking around and watching the animals, eating fish cakes from one of the stands. when the place has to close yoongi lands a hand to one of the other guys working there, jimin, and then takes the longest way back home. 

somehow, it is 3am when he enters the convenience store. it’s one of those hole in the wall places open 24/7. when he goes in and greets, no one greets him back. he checks his pockets for the wallet, making sure he actually has enough money for food, before walking over to the fridge section. soon, he finds himself zoning out while staring at his reflection on the glass. it feels like looking at one of those distorted mirrors at the zoo, except that this one is broken and his reflection isn’t distorted, just odd in all the places and nowhere at the same time. he feels weird. he feels like he doesn’t belong in his body.

“moron, will you donate or not?” a voice asks. well, a voice makes him fucking jump. he flinches and turns around to see a girl scout standing besides him. he didn’t catch her reflection in the glass but, when he looks back, of course it’s there. then, it kicks in. 

“you called me a what?”

“donations are minimum 3.000 won,” she just replies. 

yoongi moves until he’s standing in front of her and can finally see that there is a table in one of the aisles and two other girl scouts are sitting behind it. there are fliers poorly stuck to the table with the image of a zebra on them. they all ready  _ save zoe.  _ “hey, that’s the zebra of our zoo,” he cleverly points out with furrowed brows as he can’t understand what exactly she needs to be saved from.

“uh, of course it is, genius. then you know she needs to be saved. 3.000 won please,” the girl says and sticks her hand out, waiting for bills.

“saved from what?” the questions makes the little girl -- how old can she be? twelve? thirteen? -- raise her brows and look at yoongi with something keen to annoyance and disbelief. 

“they are going to kill zoe next month. you seriously don’t know this? are you a moron?”

kill? yoongi can’t seem to recall anything about this, but then again he doesn’t directly work with the animals so it doesn’t entirely come as a surprise. however, a sharp coldness pierces his chest, like a dagger stuck in the spaces between his ribs. like opening your mouth to scream and having your lungs filled with cold water. he even forgets that the girl called him a moron. “why are they going to kill it?”

“because she’s a murderer,” one of the other girls replies slowly. now that he properly looks at them, they look like they’re probably twins. the idea that they all might be messing up with him blooms in the back of his head. moreover, the blatant disrespect of the not twin one finally catches up with him and yoongi clenches his jaw in annoyance. he would like to get angry too, but there’s just something subtly creepy about all of this that is keeping him on edge.

“what are kids like you even doing here at 3am?” he then asks, which isn’t exactly the point of it all but it’s the closest thing to logic that yoongi has at the moment. 

the disrespectful kid keeps her hand stretched out. “uh, raising funds for a protest? what does it look to you?” 

yoongi is on the edge of finally scolding her, when something else steals his attention. for an instant he can’t grasp exactly what but then it happens again. the street lights. the street lights start flickering again, the same way they did this morning. he watches as they flicker, thinks about moths, and shivers. there’s something strange about it, in a way that can’t be put into words, and it’s making him feel uneasy. “is that what girl scouts do these days?” he asks fleebly.

“we’re not girl scouts,” the girl replies and the lights outside die. when yoongi turns his head back and looks at her, she still has her arm stretched out. waiting. without thinking, yoongi takes some change out of his pockets and gives it to her before quickly walking away, as if they were the reason for his uneasiness. maybe they are. as he picks up his groceries, he hears the girl shout, “donations are minimum 3.000 won!” he pays for his stuff silently and rushes back home.

//

that night he has the same weird dream. he’s calmly floating in dark and lukewarm water, his limbs light and mind lighter. until his feet start feeling cold and then the iciness spreads to his legs and his entire body. the creature is approaching. it looks like a fucking dinosaur. or something like that. you know, one of those terrifying marine creatures that existed millions of years ago and that possibly still do, just out of our weak mortal reach. in the dream, yoongi starts fussing and moving around quickly, but his body isn’t his, he can’t feel it. when he opens his mouth to scream for help, cold water fills his lungs and he can feel it quickly fill him up. and then he can see the creature opening its large mouth and swallowing him up. when yoongi wakes up he’s sweaty and hard. 

he groans and stares at his ceiling for a while before standing up to give mitzki food. mitzki is a weird name, he likes it. and he likes the cat too. it is never home, always walking around the neighbourhood or sunbathing in the little garden, but it somehow is  _ always  _ home when you want company or do as much as think about it. then it will snuggle at you and cuddle with you for hours. yoongi knows, he’s done it for days. he can already feel the prelude of a stinging nostalgy when he thinks about when he’ll have to move back to seoul and leave hoseok’s cat to, well, hoseok. 

talking about mitzki, he’s acting kind of weird this morning. yoongi gave him food but the big cat wanted none of it, it went to sit in front of the front door instead. he doesn’t even respond when yoongi calls it. thus, he stands up from where he was eating breakfast -- yes, another piece of kim taehyung’s cake -- at the kitchen table and walks over to the door. 

“you good, little mitzki? something outside is bothering you?” he asks the cat and looks at it, sort of waiting for an answer. mitzki just stares at him. “okay, let me check, uh?” he gestures for the cat to stay still and opens the door. there’s no one outside. of course, it’s 6.30am. he’s already turning back when his gaze falls at the doorstep. a pastel pink box is sitting there, as if to mirror mitzki. “what the fuck?” yoongi crouches and looks at the box. it looks identical to the one that is on his kitchen table right this moment. even the bow is done in the exact terrible way, like it was childwork. when he opens it, there’s a cake inside of it and on top of it, the words “kim taehyung.” confused and unsettled, yoongi takes the box in his hands and goes back home. inside, mitzki is eating its food. 

he almost gets back at eating his own breakfast when he hears something that catches his attention. a voice. a voice that his hazy sleepy mind can’t recognize yet but that he’s sure to know. and then, he hears it again, clearer this time.

“help us save zoe, please!”

“that’s the girl scouts!” he exclaims to himself. “well, the not-girl-scouts.” he can hear them walking from the other side of the street and then knock on a door probably two addresses away from his. he listens attentively, standing still and looking ridiculous with the box of cake clutched in his hands. then, he drops the box on the couch and presses himself to the door. 

“thank you for your donation and don’t forget to come to the protest!” they all exclaim in unison. 

yoongi feels weirdly thrilled. like their arrival means something, like it’s going to mean something for him specifically. however, it also makes him feel weird, a not entirely good type of weird. as if the feeling was mixed with muted tones of frightened and nervous. so he takes the feeling in his hands and twists it until it looks like something else entirely. “i’m going to scold them for being disrespectful at me last night,” he whispers to himself.

with his ear pressed to the door, he can hear their steps and as they knock on his neighbour’s door. they’re close. he hears the same sentences, the same pleading and the same thank you, all too loud for so early in the morning. for some reason, he wonders if the street lights are working. and then they’re finally walking away from his neighbour and approaching his door, walking. and walking. and they keep walking. then, he hears it again. the knocking. except that it doesn’t come from his door but form his other neighbour.

“they skipped me?” he stands up properly, confused. he can still hear their voices as they walk away from his neighbour to the other addresses on this street. and yoongi thinks, “maybe it’s not too late,” as he swings the door open and looks outside. he steps out and turns his head to where they not-girl-scouts should be. except that there’s no one here. he looks around but there’s no sight of them anywhere. nevertheless, there’s a flier at every doorstep of the street. magenta papers with a huge print of a zebra’s face and the words  _ save zoe. _ when he looks down, he finds one under his eyes too. 

“thank you for your donation and don’t forget to come to the protest!”

yoongi’s head snaps in the direction of the voices. for an instant he feels relief washing all over him, as if to reassure him that he wasn’t hallucinating when he heard them. without thinking twice, or even once, about it, yoongi closes the door behind himself and walks off in the direction he thinks the not-girl-scouts took. he can still hear their voices so he speeds up as they get fainter, like flickering lights. there’s something weird about the street this morning, something new. or off. or both. but yoongi is too busy trying to follow the not-girl-scouts to pinpoint it. 

it takes him awhile to notice that the voices are gone. he lost them. he stops in his tracks and by looking around he finds out that he too is lost. it actually isn’t easy to get lost in such a small city but yoongi blames it on being new here. there’s no sight of the girls nor of hoseok’s house.

“that sure is an eye-catching look.” that surely isn’t the voice of the not-girl-scout. it’s low and deep and smooth like lukewarm honey. yoongi looks around and sees a guy leaning against a threshold, cigarette between two fingers and smoke swirling around him like snow going in the wrong direction. he’s beautiful. yoongi blinks slowly. he might be the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. and he’s eyeing yoongi with a smirk breaking his breathtaking features. which seems to be the signal for yoongi’s body to finally notice how cold he actually feels. “nice outfit,” the guy says when yoongi doesn’t answer.

yoongi furrows his brows and looks down at himself and, “shit!” he left his house without pants. like always, he slept in boxers only and he was so engrossed in the whole not-girl-scouts thing that he forgot he wasn’t wearing any pants before leaving. “fuck!” yoongi exclaims. he sort of wants to disappear right now, really wants to be swallowed by the sunrise missing sky as if it was an abyss. 

the guy laughs. yoongi snaps his head back at him at the beautiful sound. it’s a nice type of laugh, one to fill you up and replace the blood in your veins. something that sounds like a hot winter, whatever that’s supposed to mean. yoongi is red with embarrassment. 

“do you live far from here?”

“uh,” yoongi dumbly says, “i don’t know.” the guy lifts a brow and takes a long drag of his cigarette. “i’m kinda lost.” 

the other tilts his head to the right, then to the left, like he’s considering something, and then takes a last long drag before throwing the butt of the cigarette on the sidewalk. “come inside, i’ll give you something,” he says. yoongi’s eyes go moon wide and he keeps standing there, gaping at the pretty guy and looking like a complete moron. “i’ll give you some pants and help you go back home, c’mon,” he explains and digits the code to open his front door. he walks it without waiting for yoongi. from inside, he adds, “don’t worry, i don’t bite.” finally, yoongi rushes inside. “unless you want me to.”

the guy’s place looks like a small loft. it’s a one room place, one huge giant big room with a kitchen in a corner. yoongi sort of finds himself gaping awkwardly at it while he waits for the pretty guy to hand him a pair of black sweatpants. he notices the way yoongi is eyeing his place but doesn’t say anything about it, although he looks sort of  _ tinier  _ when yoongi’s eyes falls on the one wall of the room covered with paintings. 

“thank you so much,” yoongi says. whispers, actually.

the pretty guy chuckles. “how come you remembered to put shoes on but not pants?”

good question. yoongi is blushing like an overripe cherry and he’s still hoping some mysterious force will end his existence right about now. “i was, uh-- thinking about other stuff. too engrossed to think properly, i guess.”

the guy hums as if he knows exactly what yoongi was thinking about this morning. it makes him feel a bit like a prey, naked in too many ways. he crosses his arms, unsure on what to do with them. the guy turns his back to him and walks towards the kitchen corner. “i’m taehyung, by the way.”

_taehyung._ something about this unfamiliar name is painfully familiar to yoongi. he can taste it on his teeth and tongue like it was bittersweet blood. like taehyung was a wound. but isn’t that what all people are? just wounds of the cosmos. “yoongi,” he answers as he studies taehyung’s broad back. he looks beautiful from this angle too, what the fuck. yoongi shakes his head violently just as taehyung turns around to ask him,“do you want coffee? tea?” then, seeing yoongi’s head he adds, “okay then” with something keen to a chuckle entangled with the letters like sticky honey. that’s how taehyung feels like. warm sticky honey. it’s a weird image and yoongi feels somehow guilty about thinking this way of a complete stranger. especially while wearing said stranger’s pants. he blushes again. 

“no-- i mean, yes. yeah, i’d like a cup of coffee. thank you.”

it takes yoongi a moment to realize that he’s walking closer and closer to taehyung, as he watches his back. there’s something of him catching his attention, a little detail stuck to his skin. pretty skin.  _ what the fuck,  _ yoongi thinks about the general idea of taehyung. there’s a bruise behind his ear, one little exploded blueberry. and lower another bruise, lime and green, little sneaky bastard. another one, bigger this time, sneaking from under the collar of taehyung’s beige shirt. suddenly, yoongi is so close that he can smell taehyung. he talks without processing it.

“are you okay?”

taehyung turns around and they’re so close. it would be too close if it was anyone else, but strange and out of place intimacy feels good with taehyung, even if it’s too soon. yoongi realizes the implications of a  _ too soon _ . he hopes that he will have other words with taehyung, words like  _ later  _ and  _ again  _ and  _ another time _ . he’s a big fan of words. 

“yeah,” taehyung says and raises a brow. he has two cups in his hands. they look like they used to be white but now there’s paint all over them. weird shapes that would remind yoongi of cold water if only he could manage to tear his eyes away from taehyung’s face and the hint of a bruise right out of his sight. “why are you asking?”

“your bruises.” he stalls for a second, unbalanced. “i’m sorry, it’s not any of my business. but if there’s something wrong-- i don’t know, if you need someone--” he doesn’t know how to continue the half bitten sentence but thankfully taehyung finishes it for him with a grin and a chuckle.  _ god, he’s so beautiful when he laughs.  _

he licks his lips and bites his tongue immediately after, like it was a punishment, when taehyung runs a hand through his hair and lets it rest on the back of his neck as if to search for the bruises. “they’re on purpose,” he says. yoongi’s gaze is jumping everywhere, restless and preying and ashamed of the aftermath of a thought he didn’t have the courage to have just yet. he raises his brows in question though. “sex. i like it when my partners hit me sometimes. the rawness, it’s hot.”

yoongi swallows. his chest rises with a deep breath but forgets to fall back down. he feels too hot, fuck. he needs to get out of here. “the cake guy,” he suddenly blabbers instead. 

“the what?”

yoongi furrows his brows, confused at himself. “can i ask you what’s your last name? is it kim?”

“yeah, kim taehyung. that’s me.”

well, what the fuck. he’s the cake guy. he’s most likely the guy who should have been getting the cakes that keep appearing at yoongi’s doorstep. yoongi fiddles with his hands, not sure what to do with this information. he suddenly regrets even opening his mouth, as cold pierces his chest, icy arrow between his fragile ribs. he really needs to leave now. he’s cold and uneasy and bothered by unnamed things. if taehyung notices, he doesn’t say anything but gives yoongi the mental space he needs. 

“i think it’s time for me to go,” yoongi says and looks down at the cup in his hand. it’s still full. he brings it to his lips and gulps down a third of it, burning his tongue. “ouch,” he whispers. taehyung looks concerned but he isn’t saying anything, just standing there, leaning against the kitchen counter and sipping his cup of tea. mango and pomegranate. the smell is enchanting, like a potion.  _ a love potion,  _ yoongi thinks. dumbly. 

taehyung, lips pressed to the cup, looks up from through his long long eyelashes.  _ what the fuck _ , yoongi thinks again. it seems like that’s his recurrent thought for the day. “sure, thing. want me to walk you home? or just give you directions?”

“i think i’m just gonna, uh, walk around. i’ll eventually find a way to get back, no worries.”

“okay, dear.” the words is saccharine on taehyung’s tongue and yoongi takes one long second to wonder how it would taste on his own. weird thought, totally inappropriate. sadly. yoongi suppresses the urge to shake his head again. taehyung gets closer for a second and it feels like electricity, but then he walks past him and sits at the kitchen table, hugging his cup with his pretty hands and elegant fingers. yoongi shits on his feet, unsure on how to just leave. 

“okay. thank you.” taehyung hums in response. 

two minutes, too many heartbeats in between them, and yoongi is back on the street, walking in the direction he assumes he came from earlier this morning. fuck, he’s late for work again, isn’t he? not like it’s going to change anything, there aren’t many people who want to see fake moons orbiting around a plastic jupiter. 

“fuck.” yoongi stops in his tracks. he didn’t get taehyung’s number. how is he going to give him the pants back? “does this count as stealing? did i steal his pants?” it probably doesn’t fall under stealing but it feels less weighty to worry about that rather than the possibility of never seeing taehyung again. he had no idea he likes honey this much, it’s like a revelation. 

//

turns out that never seeing taehyung again actually means pressing him to a building and breathing so close that they get dizzy, all this just the day after meeting him. it’s late, already past 12am, and they managed to accidentally find each other in a bar. yoongi doesn’t know what to focus on. the length of his soft eyelashes caressing his cheekbones, the peaches of his lips glistening with spit, the raspberry bruise that is doing a poor job at hiding under the collar of his shirt. it looks like its painted on his collarbones and yoongi immediately imagines someone biting him there and taehyung arching towards teeth and tongue. fuck, it’s so hot.

before he can think twice about it, he presses his index and middle fingers into the spot, light like gravity was an option. “how did you get this, uh? did someone bite you?” he asks. taehyung makes a strangled sound, something between a cheeky chuckle and a moan.  _ fuck, he sounds so good.  _ yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself, taehyung makes him feel like he’s getting intoxicated on carbon dioxide. and he loves it. it’s exhilarating. “it’s hot,” he adds. 

“why do you want to know, uh?” taehyung asks and runs his hand through yoongi’s hair, tugs a little. yoongi follows the movement and throws his head back. the sky is cold above them. stars are spilled everywhere. they look lost. yoongi wonders if the requirement for existence is being lost. 

he moans when taehyung kisses his neck. a wet and slow kiss, deliberately dragged and hot. yoongi presses harder into the bruise and he can feel the vibrations when taehyung moans against his neck. “do you have others? wanna see.” he starts moving his hands all over taehyung then, as if searching for bruises. or maybe, for a way to leave one. he presses into his hips and shoulders and ass and taehyung moans in his mouth when they kiss.  _ fuck, he’s so good,  _ yoongi thinks.

“gross.” a voice makes both of them jump. 

the not-girl-scouts are standing right there, looking at them. yoongi immediately pushes himself away from taehyung and hopes they don’t look as terribly disheveled as he thinks. he turns his head to look at taehyung and it’s a pretty view but he looks decent. letting out a sigh of relief he sees the one of the girls approaching. “what are you two doing here?”

“do you mean what are  _ you  _ doing here? isn’t it too late for girl scouts to go sell cookies?” 

“i said we’re not girl scouts,” the girl replies through gritted teeth. she looks pretty pissed so yoongi embarrassingly takes it as a win. one point of him, around a handful for--

“who are you?” taehyung asks, genuine curiosity twirling in his tone.

“jennifer,” the rude girl replies. the twins don’t make a sound. they just stand there, watching silently. to be honest, they all give yoongi the creeps. suddenly, the wind rises and chills run down his spine. he thinks about his nightmare, if that really is one, and the cold it brings with itself. he had the same dream again last night. the only difference is that this time he drowned before the creature could swallow him. not cool. 

“so?” jennifer asks, clearly annoyed. 

yoongi looks at her first, then at taehyung. he’s smiling. “so what?”

“are you a moron?” yoongi can’t stand her. “are you coming or not?”

“where?”

taehyung takes his hand. “yes, we are.” then, he turns to yoongi, “c’mon, it’s gonna be fun.”

thus, they find themselves walking behind the girl scouts, following them hand in hand. yoongi is torn between the urge to turn his face away to hide his blushing and the one to stare at the stars reflecting in taehyung’s big eyes.

“you know,” taehyung suddenly says, “i’ve been having a weird recurrent dream lately.” he plays with yoongi’s fingers while speaking. “wait.” stretching his arm, he points at jennifer’s back. “we’re wearing the same backpack.” bright neon pink. yoongi didn’t even notice it. it should look out of place on taehyung, ridiculous even, but somehow it fits him. everything fits him. a vague thought swims in yoongi’s head, something about taehyung being made to exist, but he can’t quite put it in a coherent sentence. 

“where are we even going?”

taehyung smiles. 

“to save zoe,” one of the twins says. her monotone voice makes yoongi shiver.

the smile on taehyung’s lips stretches in a grin. “what is it about the zebra anyway? what does she need to be saved from?”

“you don’t know?” taehyung asks, genuinely surprised. 

yoongi shakes his head. “i’m new in town.” looking straight at taehyung almost burns behind his eyelids, like looking at the sun from far too close and too long. the fading bruises on his skin are the color of a cold sunrise. pretty.

“well, as you know zoe is a zebra at the pepper heights zoo,” taehyung starts, his eyes walking slowly from building to building and sometimes catching on the stars with an intensity aimed to bring them down. “it’s a petting zoo so the whole point of it is to pet the animals, right? but one day a little kid took it too far and somehow managed to enter zoe’s cage.” moonshine is cutting his cheekbones. he looks beautiful. yoongi feels cold. “zoe was probably really scared, she’s not used to unfamiliar faces and strangers in her little home, so she got feral and ended up stomping on the little ian. until she killed him.” yoongi doesn’t want to imagine it. “ian’s parents and other people asked for justice so it was decided that zoe will be suppressed.” he taps on yoongi’s hand with his fingers, as if counting. “she barely has a month left.”

“oh.” he thinks about what one of the twins says. “she’s a murderer.” 

taehyung’s grip gets firmer but only for a second. his voice sounds blue and tired when he says, “i don’t think it was her fault. wild animals aren’t meant to be kept in zoos. she reacted in the most normal way.” 

“i don’t think it was her fault either.” he feels sort of guilty now, maybe because he works at the zoo too. it makes him uneasy, like a bad stomach ache. like drowning in cold dark water. which makes him remember taehyung mentioned something about a weird dream, maybe they could--

the street lights flicker once. at first it’s just the one they’re walking under but then all the lampposts in that street start flickering. yoongi seems to be the only one to notice it, no one else reacts in any way, as if this is how street lights are supposed to work. like dying stars. driven by an unknown anxiety, he holds taehyung’s hand so tight he hurts him. taehyung doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking and looking around. then, the lights go out. all of them. and they’re in the dark. in the dark like drowning in cold water. instinctively, yoongi turns around but--

“we’re here, morons,” jennifer says. so yoongi’s head snaps back to the not-girl-scouts and he finally notices where they were going to. the zoo. the fucking zoo. they’re standing outside of its perimeter, except that being in front of the main entrance they chose the part that is only protected by a metal fence. there’s a one floor building right in front of them and the lights in one of the rooms are on. there’s a faint music coming from inside as well. it sounds like old circus music. fucking creepy.

“what the fuck are we doing here?” yoongi asks. he’s really not happy about this whole thing.

“shh! you’ll get us caught, moron! shut up!” jennifer whispers aggressively. yoongi doesn’t know if it’s because of the dark but she looks older. and suspiciously too serious. she takes her bright pink backpack off her shoulder and unzips it. it takes her a while to find what she was searching for and a moment too long for yoongi to recognize the shape of the object in the dark. are those shears?

“hey! what the fuck are you doing?”

“i told you to shut up!” 

yoongi watches as jennifer cuts the fence enough for a person to go through it. she moves the loose part of the fence enough to throw her backpack on the other side before following through. then, it’s the twins’ turn. yoongi isn’t sure this is a good idea. it actually feels like a terrible and stupid and senseless idea. but right before he can form a concrete doubt, taehyung kisses him on his lips, light like spring breeze. it’s enough to blur all the thoughts in his head in static noise.  _ fuck it _ , yoongi thinks. 

when he sees taehyung struggling to go through the small hole in the fence yoongi tells him to take his backpack off and throw it on the other side first to make it easier. taehyung does as suggested and soon he’s on the other side, waiting for yoongi to slip into this nonsense abyss the color of the night. he sighs and goes through the fence. jennifer and the twins have already moved and now they’re under the only window with lights inside, backs carefully pressed against the cold bricks. taehyung takes yoongi’s hand and follows them quickly. 

_ just what the fuck are we doing here? _

“i know that it’s not a good idea, you don’t need to tell me,” comes a voice from the inside. furrowing his brows, yoongi thinks that he knows this voice. “trust me, it’s the best decision to let this protest be a thing. it’ll make me look like less of an asshole and maybe it’ll bring more visitors.”  _ holy fuck this is seokjin. this is a terrible idea. why the fuck did i let them bring me into this mess. oh my god this is terrible, taehyung smells so nice from this close.  _ “the day after tomorrow.” yoongi’s back and legs are starting to ache from the uncomfortable position they’re all in. it’s odd how the not-girl-scouts seem so into their element, as if being little creepy vandals was their natural state. “yeah, i’ll let the zoo open all night long after closing hours so that they can march in and stuff. what? no, i’m not gonna be around, do you want me them to eat me alive?”

“c’mon, let’s go,” jennifer suddenly whispers. and yoongi thinks it’s finally time for them to stop with this stupid spying or whatever the fuck it is that they’re doing. however, instead of running back from where they came from, the not-girl-scouts run towards the zoo, followed by taehyung. yoongi has no idea what force makes him follow them, despite the strong desire to get out of this mess before he gets in trouble. if only he could get back at kissing taehyung, that was the only thing he wanted to do tonight. 

when they’re all enough far away from the offices building, the girls stop in their tracks. “okay, here’s the plan,” jennifer announces.

“plan? what plan?”

jennifer shoots yoongi an annoyed look before continuing. “we have to go inside make preparations before the protest. you two stay here and check if seokjin is still busy. he usually does a round of checking the animals at 2am, which means that we have exactly twenty-four minutes. if you see him coming towards here make a signal to tell us to come back.”

“what kind of signal?”

“and don’t you dare leave before we’re back. understood?”

taehyung nods energetically. god, he looks like he’s having the time of his life, thriller and rosy and deeply serious. he seems like the type of person to take to the heart only particular matters, only the broken things that need careful hands to hold them. yoongi’s heart aches and he shivers from the cold. it shouldn’t be that bad, right? they just need to stand there and maybe hold hands, it’s gonna be fine. he’s not gonna lose his job.

“holy shit, i could lose my job because of this!” how the hell didn’t he realize this sooner? but before he can fully process it, the girls are already running somewhere and he’s morally obligated to go through this. he might dislike jennifer and be scared but he’s not going to leave three kids in trouble. not yet at least. besides, taehyung is right there to keep him company and they’re holding hands.

they can see the new exhibition building from where they’re standing.  _ the forgotten sea.  _ “how do you forget a whole sea?” taehyung asks.

“why are you doing this?” yoongi asks him. taehyung won’t look at him though, he’s taking his surveillance job very seriously.

“what do you mean?”

yoongi gestures with his free hand to the zoo behind their backs. “this whole weird thing. you don’t even know the girl scouts or anything.”

“they’re not girl scouts.” he smiles tenderly. “i used to come to the zoo every sunday with my grandparents. we’d bring feed and give it to zoe and pet her and get ice cream every single time. it’s one of the happiest memories that i have and i would give anything to have just another day like that.” yoongi opens his mouth but taehyung hasn’t finished yet. “but my grandparents died a handful of years ago. zoe is the only thing i have left.”

“i’m very sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he finally turns to look back at yoongi and he’s smiling. yoongi thinks about how he tasted like blood and honey when they kissed.

“is this why you want to save zoe?”

taehyung shakes his head. “not really. i want to help the girls. if there’s something they feel so strongly connected to, like it’s their life mission, then they deserve to be helped. it’s such a human thing, don’t you think?”yoongi isn’t sure he can fully comprehend the wideness of taehyung’s mind, the way it stretches like a galaxy and lights up the darkness of the void. they spend the remaining minutes alternating comfortable silence and small talk about everything and nothing. yoongi feels like he’s floating on cold water. taehyung’s voice is what keeps him on the surface. he thinks if there’s a possibility that they might be something, together, or if this vague formless thing that floats between them is how taehyung works. not that yoongi really minds. 

"c'mon," jennifer screams whispering as she runs past them. "let's leave before someone sees us!"

that's my line, yoongi thinks. he starts running. the night slaps against his skin as he speeds up and he feels like he's running away from the sky, afraid that all the stars will fall on him and kill him. it's a weird thought to have. taehyung is running side by side with him, smiling wildly. he looks like he's having fun. yoongi's heart clenches. 

they all crouch down when they reach the offices building again and press themselves to the cold wall. yoongi's freezing. no one moves.

"why did you stop?" yoongi asks.

"shh!" the twins intimate. jennifer is the one directly under the window of seokjin's office and she has her head thrown backwards as she looks up. yoongi follows her gaze and fuck. seokjin is standing right in front of the open window, smoking a cigarette. it reminds him of the first time he saw taehyung and something aches in his throat. like early nostalgia. he wants to hold his hand again but he's afraid of moving. seokjin takes a long drag and the ashes fall on jennifer's clothes, staining her like dead blood. but then they finally have a moment. a phone rings and seokjin retreats. jennifer makes a rash gesture with her hand and runs towards the fence, followed by everyone else. then, it's only a moment before they're all on the other side. safe.

"fucking finally," yoongi says and sighs. he's embarrassed to notice that he's the only one panting. he really needs to exercise more. "did you do whatever you had to do?" jennifer doesn't answer. she fixes the backpack on her shoulder and then her hair. when she looks at the twins they nod knowingly.

"make sure to come to the protest," she says as she walks away, followed by the twins. then, it's just yoongi and taehyung.

"so," taehyung says. 

"so," yoongi replies. he doesn't know what to do with himself. he wants so many scattered things that he can't even put them in line, let alone say them out loud. he wants to take taehyung home and he wants to tell him about the cakes and he wants to kiss him again and he wants to tell him about being afraid of those damn flickering lights and he wants to look at his fruity bruises and he wants to sleep for twenty hours and he wants to lie down in the middle of the street. instead, he says, "goodnight, taehyungie."

taehyung smiles. "goodnight, hyung." 

they walk away in different directions. the stars look too dangerously close tonight.

//

that dream again. yoongi wonders if the reason he feels like paralyzed is because the water is so icy. or maybe it’s the fear. this time he didn’t open his mouth to scream for help, he just watched the monster fish swallow him whole with utter terror. when he wakes up he’s rock hard and almost leaking precum. 

on the other side of the bedroom door mitzki is meowing. yoongi searches for his phone, he remembers throwing it somewhere on the bed before falling asleep at ass o’clock. after eventually sitting up he finds it under the covers next to his feet. the screen blinks with unread messages. it’s 10.14am. “thank god i don’t work today.”

yoongi lets himself fall back on the pillow, his hair sprawled around his head like a mis-colored halo. he unlocks the phone and clicks on the messages. they’re all from the same person.

**_taehyung:_ **

_ hyung  _

_ i have to find the not girl scouts  _

_ i have the wrong backpack can u believe _

_ jennifer probably has mine _

_ btw _

_ wanna go on a date today? _

_ ;) _

trying to process the invite with his coffee empty morning mind results in dragging the duvets over his head and hiding in the warmth and dark for a while. he keeps staring at the word  _ date  _ and at the wink. the memory of taehyung’s taste comes back in mind and yoongi groans at nothing, blushing like an overripe cherry. it’s like they’re doing things in the wrong order. it doesn’t feel like a wrong thing though, taehyung has his own way of existing so of course making out in a dark alley comes before a date when it comes to him. not that yoongi minds. he spends the next couple of hours rolling in bed and thinking about taehyung. 

“for fuck’s sake!” he suddenly exclaims and kicks the duvets off of himself. it’s around noon now and mitzki is back meowing at his door. “okay little guy. i’m coming, i’m coming.” he finally writes a reply to taehyung, leaves the phone on the pillow, and walks towards the kitchen to feed hoseok’s cat. and himself, eventually. the screen of his phone, still unlocked and sleeping in his place on the pillow, reads  _ im not sure i want to know what’s inside her backpack. id love to go on a date with u though. lets meet at 4pm at the zoo? _

the too late to be called breakfast is uneventful as yoongi promptly ignores mitzki meowing again at the front door and the perspective of a new mysterious cake. he should probably tell taehyung about it. “i should probably tell taehyung about it,” he tells the cat. mitzki doesn’t answer. he even manages to stay away from the phone for the entirety of his late morning. 

he’s still in his pajamas and eating cake while watching a drama on tv when the doorbell rings. mitzki is nowhere to be seen. yoongi puts the plate with cake on the coffee table next to his steaming cup of coffee, and gets up. 

“nice date outfit, hyung,” taehyung says when yoongi opens the door. yoongi vaguely remembers telling him where he lives last night at the zoo. however, he wasn’t expecting to see him at his doorstep. his gaze instinctively falls on the ground, in search for a pink box with a terribly done bow. there’s no sight of any. he gets back at gaping at taehyung very elegantly. “are you coming out like this?” taehyung asks teasingly and reaches out, plays with the hem of yoongi’s shirt. riles it up and presses the pads of his cold fingers on his stomach. yoongi shivers.

“i’ve already come out. i’m pretty gay,” he retorts and taehyung laughs. sweetly, prettily, warmly. “sorry. i thought we were meeting up at the zoo so i didn’t get ready yet. i wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

taehyung fishes his phone out of the light denim jacket and shows him the screen. it’s their chat. the last message reads  _ i’ll come pick you up hyungie xoxo.  _ yoongi thinks about his phone, still lying on his pillow in the bedroom.

“sorry,” he says and smiles apologetically. taehyung brushes it away with a gesture of his hand and wordlessly invites himself inside. when he closes the front door, yoongi feels breathless. “can you give me ten minutes to get ready?” taehyung nods and immediately turns around to let his eyes roam around the living room, as if permanece wasn’t a concept to him. he’s weird. yoongi blushes. he likes weird. then, he walks away to get ready. as he leaves the room behind himself he hears taehyung’s honey voice.

“hi there little guy! and who are you?” he’s probably talking to mitzki. 

“he called him little guy,” yoongi says to no one, as if to give the audience an explanation for the longing in the pit of his stomach. it takes him only eight minutes to get ready, mostly because he was rushing. there’s something intimate about doing such mundane and domestic things as taking your clothes off and brush your teeth and put fresh clothes on and fix your hair and whatever else, all while there’s another boy in the other room, walking around like he’s familiar and comfortable being home with you. yoongi doesn’t think he’s ready for that kind of intimacy just yet. 

when he walks back into the living room, taehyung is holding mitzki in his arms and looking at the bookshelves. yoongi doesn’t even know what books there are on them. he and hoseok have always had different taste in literature so he didn’t even bother checking out what he had home. 

“i don’t know anything about hoseok-ssi,” he says without even turning around to look at yoongi. “i’m in his house, looking at his stuff but there’s no trace of him. the books are the only personal thing about him in here.” he caresses the covers, slowly and deliberately like he’s trying to impress the letters into his caramel skin. “some people live scared of living. i hate houses so carefully organized as to delete any trace of life in them.” yoongi thinks about the weird mess he has back at his apartment in seoul. “it’s so sad.” now yoongi thinks about taehyung’s place. the painting displayed across an entire wall, the books scattered everywhere, the posters and photographs and mugs and cds. he kind of wants to get back and have the time, and the pants, to look properly at it. but then taehyung’s furrowed brows and imperceptible frown disappear in a moment, so quickly that yoongi barely had the time to register them. “are you ready, hyung?”

yoongi nods. he’s noticed he’s often at a loss for words when it comes to taehyung. taehyung puts mitzki down, gives him a last pet and looks excited at yoongi. “should we go?” taehyung nods.

when they leave, yoongi doesn’t really know where to go or what to do, so he ends up letting taehyung lead. they take so many turns that yoongi loses his orientation and they soon end up roaming streets he doesn’t know. it’s a nice day. the sun is shining delicately through the greish clouds, casting translucent amber light all over the cars and buildings. the one they’re walking around is an old part of the city, with a mixture of antique and newly built complexes. it’s a nice contrast. the trees adorning the streets and sidewalk are casting shadows everywhere. it all feels oddly seasonless. yoongi had no idea such a pretty zone existed in jihangjae.

“i’ve been having a weird dream lately,” yoongi suddenly says. “i’m underwater and at first everything is calm and peaceful. but soon the water becomes cold and i realize i’m not alone.” he’s not sure why he’s telling taehyung this. “there’s a weird creature, like one of those dinosaur fishes from millions of years ago. i open my mouth to scream but it fills my lungs with water and as i start drowning the monster swallows me.” maybe he’s gonna skip the part where he wakes up hard.

for a few minutes taehyung doesn’t say anything. they’re walking hand in hand. “i’ve been having the same dream,” he says then, still not looking at yoongi. yoongi’s head snaps. 

“what?”

“i’ve been having the same exact dream. i’m floating underwater and there’s a monster fish down there with me. sometimes it swallows me, something i die before it gets me.” yoongi’s eyes are wide, his eyebrows have climbed so up they’re going to get stuck there. “i call it dreamboy,” taehyung says. “ the fish, i mean.”

“that’s--” weird? scary? creepy? yoongi doesn’t know which is the right word to fill the blank of his sentence. he settles for weird. “don’t you think it’s weird?”

taehyung shakes his head. then, he finally turns to look at yoongi. his dark eyes are like bottomless skies. yoongi wonders how many stars they’ve swallowed. if they’ll swallow him. “i think it’s nice to have something to connect us. something sort of mystical, like an omen.”

“when did you start having this dream?” yoongi asks as they walk into a tunnel. there are unusual blue neon lights in here. taehyung looks pretty underneath them. “i started dreaming about-- about dreamboy when i first arrived in jihangjae. do you think it has anything to do with this city?”

taehyung doesn’t reply. he just keeps walking slowly, sensually even. yoongi can’t tear his eyes off of him, not that he wants to. he would like to keep asking about the dream, to find a clue or something, but his thoughts get foggy and pieces of them get bitten away and replaced with the image of taehyung and the shape of a bruise on his neck he didn’t notice before. it’s big and purple and blue like someone has bitten fruit into his flesh. yoongi licks his lips. it doesn’t even take taehyung an instant to catch on the gesture.

“do you like it?” he asks, knowingly. yoongi couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. but it’s beautiful and he wants taehyung to know that.

“you’re beautiful,” he says. blushes. it’s close enough. 

taehyung smirks. “do you wanna help me take a picture of it? i usually take polaroids of them but my polaroid is in my backpack.” yoongi’s eyes fall on the magenta backpack on taehyung’s shoulder. it’s jennifer’s, he remembers that vaguely. his mind is struggling to not think about taehyung and the pretty colors on his skin, like a palette, like a love letter, like galaxy accidentally spilled on his skin. taehyung is like a black hole and yoongi is so bad at resisting it. he licks his lips again. “i take pictures of them and then i like to paint them.”

“why?” yoongi asks. whispering.

taehyung tilts his head, his smile dripping honey and stardust onto the dirty floor of the tunnel. yoongi wants to kiss him. “i like to keep the people i meet alive. i like to think they’re more alive this way.” it leaves yoongi breathless and longing. yearning. taehyung walks closer then and pushes his phone in yoongi’s hands. “will you help me, please?” the other just nods and looks. 

painfully slowly, taehyung goes to stand right under a blue light and lifts his hand to drag the collar of his shirt down to expose the bruise more. it has a weird shape, like a jellyfish maybe. yoongi wonders why to paint something like this when it’ll never be as beautiful as it is on taehyung’s skin, with the strong shape of his muscles and his broad shoulders and big elegant hands to frame it. he doesn’t say it but he’s sure taehyung reads him anyway. yoongi feels embarrassingly open with him, so vulnerable it cuts his skin like paper cuts. paper cuts on his heart. taehyung tilts his head, turns his body, moves his neck. the exposed patch of skin dances with his movements and yoongi captures every single one of them. 

“you look beautiful,” he allows himself to say, again. taehyung smiles. 

then, they suddenly hear a low growling coming from behind them. yoongi almost doesn’t want to to turn to look, maybe if he ignores it he can pretend nothing is there. however, the frightened look on taehyung’s face makes his heart clench and he immediately snaps his head to look behind them. there are two shadows at the beginning of a tunnel, right where they’re coming from. they look like two dogs. except that there’s something off about them. they look too big. 

“hyung, are those--”

yoongi walks closer to him and stretches his hand for taehyung to take. the shadows growl again, low and raw like cut flesh. the iron-like and saccharine taste of blood fills yoongi’s mind and he realizes he’s biting hard on his bottom lip, nervous. the shadows’ backs arch. it’s not a good sign.

“yoongi hyung--”

“shh,” he whispers in response. he lets go of taehyung’s hand to use his own to push him gently but urgently. “walk backwards towards the exit. slowly,” he tells him. taehyung nods, wide blown eyes stuck to the growling shadows. he’s stiff with fear like tense glass. oxygen feels like the thing enough to break it. taehyung moves slowly. he’s turned his back to the other exit of the tunnel and he puts a foot behind himself. yoongi does the same. then the other foot. yoongi follows. the figures growl at them but don’t seem to move. it’s going well, they’re doing well. another step back, another one. but then taehyung steps on a piece of glass. the animals growl louder and suddenly start running towards them.  _ fuck.  _

“run! run, tae!” yoongi screams. he takes taehyung by hand and they start running. taehyung doesn’t look back. he has tears in his eyes and runs as fast as he can. the growls echo in the tunnel. the echo makes the animals sound more than they actually are. just to make sure, yoongi risks a glance behind his back to make sure. the two animals are are still two and still following them. hunting them. he tightens the grip around taehyung’s hand and gulps painfully. his lungs feel heavy, like he’s drowning on cold water. the growls get fainter but yoongi can’t tell if it’s because the animals stopped running or because of the heartbeat pulsing in his ears.  _ fuck fuck fuck.  _

the blue light of the tunnel is slowly getting fainter as the exit gets closer. one step at a time. time condensed in a sharp intake of cold air and burning lungs. the animals behind them are still chasing them, yoongi can hear their claws against the ground. the sharp sound. the sharper fear.

"hyung!" taehyung exclaims. for no reason, really. it's just to make sure of each other's existence.

"keep running!" yoongi thinks if they reach the end of the tunnel they'll be safe. they'll find a place to climb or hide in or something. anything. the growls are fainter now that they're close. just a handful of meters and they're out of the tunnel. the view outside would be stunning if they weren't running on fear and cold blood. yoongi is panting and the blood is so loud in his ears that he can't hear the animals anymore. but he doesn't want to turn, not yet. taehyung doesn't either so they just keep running. 

then, they hear howling. distant and reverberant. the sound freezes him. taehyung is still running but yoongi stops all of a sudden. when he turns around he can see them, walking back to the other end of the tunnel, dirty under the neon lights are two. he takes a deep breath and realizes his legs are shaken.

"were those fucking wolves?" taehyung asks, at his side again. he's panting too.

"yeah, i think so." the two wolves are dragging their limbs out of the tunnel and walking away in the dead of the city. yoongi thinks they should probably call someone. not the cops, the cops are all bastards. he's not sure who exactly you're supposed to call in such a situation but--

taehyung starts laughing. he goes from crouching from being tired to holding his stomach from the cramps of laughing too much. yoongi has no idea why the fuck he's laughing but he looks beautiful while doing it so he doesn't mind. and it helps him shake away the fear from before. 

"that was fucking wild," taehyung says through tears. only then yoongi notices that his face has gone peachy like the cherry blossoms from the trees around them. it’s been a good date. 

the sun is setting behind the lines the buildings draw in the sky, peachy and dense like compote. still out of breath, they decide to walk home together. taking another path, of course. yoongi still doesn’t think it’s supposed to be normal seeing wolves in the middle of a street in korea. or anywhere really. they didn't find the not-girl-scouts though so as they're walking back taehyung pouts. yoongi considers kissing it away. he doesn’t, but he considers it intensively. 

it takes them a couple of hours to get back home, during which taehyung keeps asking him about whatever comes to his mind, from  _ do you believe in aliens  _ to  _ what’s your favorite sweet  _ to  _ are you afraid of dying.  _ it’s hard to answer most of his questions and every word that leaves his mouth is accompanied by a bittersweet nostalgia.

he can't sleep that night. he wants to think it’s because he’s still thinking about taehyung, that it’s the weight of having to put an end to a good day weighting on his stomach. but something has been scraping at the wooden fence of his neighbor. he doesn't recall her having a dog but maybe it is a stray one, or some wild animal. it reminds him of the wolves they saw today. he gulps painfully and stops his unresting feet to listen more carefully. the scraping has gone away. yoongi brings the duvets right under his chin. maybe he should get up and bring mitzki in so that they could sleep together. it sounds like a good idea but it's cold outside of the bed and he's really not into the whole moving his body again thing. he falls asleep before he can take a decision. the scraping doesn't return. the stars are silent tonight. for the first time in weeks he doesn’t dream of the monster fish but of wolves eating each other and blood that is not blood but soda. 

//

the doorbell rings loudly again. yoongi groans and sticks his head from under the duvets, glaring at nothing in particular. the doorbell keeps ringing. 

“fuck,” he tries to say, while yawning. he slept good last night. so good that he slept through his alarm again. thank god he doesn’t have work today. he slowly pushes the duvets away from himself and shivers as he puts his bare feet on the cold morning floor. except that it’s not really morning but late afternoon. “for how long did i even sleep?” he mutters. the doorbell rings again. “yeah, yeah, i’m coming,” he says, not loud enough for whoever it is to hear. 

yoongi waddles from his bedroom to the living room, trips on mitzki in the meantime, and finally opens to door. he doesn’t really care who it is nor what they want. he just woke up, he hasn’t had his coffee yet and that doorbell is a nightmare. he should cut if off from the electrical system, hell.

“is this a hint? you’re always half naked when we meet,” taehyung says. yoongi narrows his eyes and internally cusses at himself for forgetting to put pants on. again. his right hand goes to nervously scratch his neck.

“maybe,” he says. blushes. it’s a pretty morning color, his body must have not the the notice of existence of time yet. taehyung looks good, which isn’t surprising in the slightest. he always looks good, it’s almost sickening. he steps back and invites him in without words. the first thing taehyung does is dropping his denim jacket on the floor and take mitzki in his arms. the cat purrs contently. yoongi can’t blame it.

“i brought bungeo-ppang and hot chocolate,” taehyung says. he blushes then and hides his face in mitzki’s fuzzy fur. “i don’t like coffee and i don’t know what kind you like anyway so i got us hot chocolate. is that okay?” without thinking, god bless his hazy just-woken-up brain, yoongi stretches his arm and pets taehyung’s hair sweetly.

“‘course it’s okay.”

taehyung walks towards the kitchen and drops the stuff on the counter. it would be weird to consider how easily he exists in that house, having been there only once before, but it really is not. yoongi thinks that places curve and shift and reshape themselves around taehyung. then, he calls himself an idiot, muttering.

“said something?”

“oh-- no, nothing, don’t--” a patch of pastel pink catches his eyes and suddenly his throat is filled with cotton candy. “what’s that?” he points to the pastel pink box with a bow on it.  _ it’s a little bastard _ , his brain supplies, not entirely wrong to be honest.

taehyung runs a hand through his hair and then puts it on his hip. yoongi wishes he had a few more pair of eyes so that he could keep staring at that evil pink bastard while his gaze drifts towards taehyung’s slim fingers. he wants to check if they’re tainted. with gold. but instead he grimaces at himself and brings his eyes back to the rosé spotlight. 

“i found it at your doorstep so i brought it in. why? you weren’t expecting a package?”

was he? “yes--” well, technically-- “no.”

taehyung laughs. it makes yoongi’s toes curl and his fingers do this weird thing like he wants to grab it. the laugh. what the fuck is wrong with him today? he really does need that coffee. “which one is it? yes or no?”

“it’s weird to explain,” yoongi states. because  _ every morning i get a cake with your name on it _ sounds pretty weird as an explanation. 

“can i?” taehyung makes a vague gesture, his pretty fingers circumnavigating the air around the package. suddenly the cold of the floor spreads through yoongi’s entire body, except for weird and definitely inappropriate places where he feels too hot. feverish. he nods because he can’t find an excuse to say no. he watches as taehyung undoes the shitty bow and opens the box. a wave of an unnamed emotion hits his body but retreats as fast as it came. “what is this?”

yoongi gives the only explanation he has. “every morning i get a cake with your name on it.” he feels guilty, for some reason he can’t understand. it’s like he’s admitting taehyung at last that he’s revealed one of his secrets to the world. he holds his breath, waits for impact. hopes it’ll taste as sweet as the pomegranate and blueberry bruises on taehyung’s skin look. fuck, why is he so obsessed with them? they’re just bruises. patches of aching color. 

“cool.”

_ what?  _ “what?”

a smile unzips taehyung’s lips before he can talk again. “it’s cool.  _ mysterious. _ ” he wiggles his brows. “do you know who sends them?”

“nope. not a clue.”

“have you eaten them?”

yoongi thinks about the leftovers of cake sitting in hoseok’s fridge, waiting to be devoured, looking like mashed potatoes colored by a three year old kid. the cake itself doesn’t look bad, per se. but after he puts his hands on it, it always ends up resembling an artwork by a modern art sculpture who hasn’t aged since their third birthday. he nods. “they’re pretty good.”

taehyung sticks his index finger right in the center of the cake. “really? what if they’re poisoned? what if all this time someone was trying to poison you?” he brings the finger to his lips. “or me?” then, he opens his mouth and sucks his finger.  _ holy shit. _

“holy shit,” yoongi says, because he still hasn’t had his goddamn coffee and his brain goes highwire near taehyung. 

with the sole intent to make the situation harder for min yoongi, taehyung starts pushing the finger back and forth in his mouth and well, the situation is very hard for yoongi at this point. and he has no idea which course of action to take. escaping to put some pants on sounds like an option but it would do little to preserve his decimated modesty. the little devil sitting on his shoulder and pocking at his neck with his little dagger is telling him to ask taehyung put his finger in yoongi’s mouth instead. which is fucking ridiculous. right? it’s not like he can go and ask--

“hey, kim taehyung, let me suck your fingers.” a popping sound awakes yoongi. taehyung is staring at him with moon eyes and a smirk forming around his finger.  _ oh shit.  _ “oh, shit.” he said it out loud. by now his entire body is burning by embarrassment, which is sort of positive, at least there’s something else to focus on now, apart from his never-ending horniness. 

“sure, honey boy.” 

_ what the fuck?  _ “what the fuck?” it makes taehyung laugh again. for a brief moment yoongi hates hoseok. because soon he will come back and take back this house as his. the house, the cat and the leftovers of taehyung’s laugh lingering under the dust like dormant sunbeam. “i need a coffee,” he announces and runs of.

_ am i acting like a creep? i mean, it’s not my fault he makes me say weird shit, right? ugh fuck _ , he thinks as he quickly washes his face and puts on some black sweatpants. he doesn’t remember having these but, whatever. his mind is never working as it should when kim taehyung is in the picture. when he comes back to the kitchen, his own shirt is wet in patches, and the counter has been properly transformed into a homey picture of a domestic breakfast.

taehyung is giving him his back but he must have heard him come back because he says, “i tried really hard but i’m not a good coffee maker.” a cup full of dark liquid is in his hands when he turns around to look at yoongi. “let’s hope it’s less poisonous than the mystery cake.”

“god. thank you.” they sit down and taehyung pushes the mug towards him, taking his hot chocolate and bungeo-ppang. the coffee is suspiciously black. a little dejà vu swims towards yoongi’s toes in the form of cold water and weird little fishes. the mug looks like a black hole. “why is it so--”

“i  _ tried  _ to make it, you know, normal. i put milk in it and all but--” he lets the sentence end itself in domestic noise. 

it doesn’t taste too bad. it definitely isn’t something yoongi would drink everyday but it’s okay, he’ll eventually teach taehyung how to make proper decent--  _ fuck fuck fuck no stop. don’t go there.  _ this whole situation is so painfully domestic that his mind keeps pushing scenarios towards him, all with a  _ future together _ label on them. to push them all away he grabs a bungeo-ppang and stuffs his mouth with it. he puts a piece of cake along too because, why the hell not, using his hands and all. if only he dared to look up he’d see the sickeningly endeared look in taehyung’s pupils. but he doesn’t so all the endearment falls into the cavities of taehyung’s body, the spaces between his ribs, the white of his eyes, the spaces between his fingers. 

“so,” yoongi tries.

“so?”

a scratch on the back of his neck, the feeling of the cat’s fur against his ankles, the warmth of the mug between his hands, the impossibility to social interact in a proper manner. “why exactly are you here?”  _ shit, that sounds rude.  _ “not that i don’t enjoy your presence, just-- you know,” his hands fly around like two paper airplanes stuck in the wind, “you must have had exact intentions when you decided to come here--”

“can i read your hand?”

“what?”

his breath must smell like hot chocolate. catching himself staring at his lips doesn’t seem enough to stop yoongi from wondering. wandering. semantics or-- “ _ synonyms? _ ”

“what?”

“wondering and wandering. is it a matter of semantics or synonyms?”

“neither. opposites.” taehyung gets up, walks slowly to the sink and washes his cup. only now yoongi notices that it’s not the kind they use in cafes. it looks used and there are stains of paint at the bottom of it. taehyung must have brought his own cup when he went to get them hot chocolate. he’s rinsing it with cold water. like, yoongi  _ can’t  _ know but he just-- knows. cold water. not that it matters. “can i read your hand now?” yoongi looks at his own cup of hot chocolate, sitting untouched in the middle of the mess on the counter. there’s a stain of blue fingerprints on it. 

“sure. just don’t tell me how i die.” taehyung chuckles. 

they finish breakfast in silence. mostly because taehyung leaves yoongi to eat alone to play with mitzki instead. “i knew a guy named mitzki once, he played the violin,” he says at a certain point. yoongi focuses really hard on a huge amount of things in the meantime, like getting his nervous system to work at least half decently, and the cut of taehyung’s wide shirt. and trying to remember if this morning he woke up with a boner and let it greet taehyung at his doorstep. he sighs and shakes his head. 

once the counter looks less of a war zone and yoongi’s stomach is full, taehyung stops paying attention to the cat and looks at yoongi with surprise.  _ am i not supposed to be here? am i bothering hi-- oh, for fuck’s sake, this is my house.  _ yoongi clears his throat. awkwardly and all. “shall we?” taehyung’s brows do a weird thing then. “do the reading, i mean.” taehyung gets up and keeps staring at him. “hands.”

he’s gentle with them. yoongi sort of feels like floating in cold water when taehyung touches him. he’s holding him by his fingertips, as if yoongi was a thing to break, like fine porcelain or childhood memories. yoongi is looking at at the subtle motions of taehyung’s faces as they happen it tides. he’s pretty with his messy brows furrowed. “there isn’t the right atmosphere here for a reading. i need the right vibe.”

“the right vibe.” yoongi’s voice sounds weird, like it’s undecided between being monotone or half-asleep. looking around the kitchen, he can’t find exactly what taehyung means by bad atmosphere, whatever that’s supposed to mean. vibes. “do you want to go to the bedroom? uh, it’s-- sunlight. there’s sunlight there at this hour of the day. could help with your--  _ vibes. _ ”

taehyung nods and takes yoongi to the bedroom, still holding him like a paper airplane, oddly way too familiar with the blueprints of this house. “have you been here before?” yoongi asks, with a spoonful of offhand suspicion. 

“maybe in a past life we used to live together and the paths of our house got engraved on the soles of my feet.” it’s infuriating how taehyung just lives with this bougè bullshit strapped to his limbs. not because it’s annoying per se, but because yoongi can’t stop himself from thinking about kissing him every time he says something weird. which happens to be all the damn time apparently. 

the bedroom is a bit of a mess, like everything that lies in the periphery of yoongi’s life. he was right though; sun rays are raining gently over the unmade bed, making the white duvets look like gold in patches because, after all, anything can be holy.

taehyung hums. “perfect.” sitting on the bed, he gently urges yoongi to follow, dragging him by his warm fingertips. they end up sitting one in front on the other, legs crossed and tangled. yoongi looks down at the new mess and isn’t sure how much of it is his. warm golden light is falling on taehyung’ meddling with his hair and painting his features in pretty shapes. it totally doesn’t make yoongi bite the intern of his cheek to stop himself from doing something stupid. may taehyung be damned for being so fucking--  _ taehyung.  _

“your hand,” he asks. yoongi complies but something makes taehyung giggle. when the pretty sound dies he gets all serious and in the mimicking of jennifer’s voice says, “what are you, a moron?” and then softer, “your  _ left  _ hand.”

“oh. sure. sorry, i didn’t know.”

considering the super focused expression on his face, yoongi decides to shut up and wait. to be honest, he’s kind of nervous, hence the subtle shifting in place and wiggling of his toes. for fuck’s sake, he’s never even believed in stuff such as hand reading or tarots or whatever else. however, he believes in taehyung’s ability to surprise him with some earth-shattering bullshit every time he opens his damn mouth. 

“this is your fifth.”

“no, i’ve never had a hand reading before.”

“i meant life. your current life is your fourth reincarnation which brings you to a total of five. for now.” his voice rises in pitch for a moment, like he was high on helium. “i’m definitely not telling you how many more you have! that would ruin the fun!” he exclaims. yoongi looks at him. just looks. nods. 

“what else does it say here?”

“what do you want to know?” taehyung’s gentle grip on yoongi’s hand goes tighter all of a sudden. his chest rises and shoulders do a weird movement that yoongi isn’t sure he can put in words. “if you could know anything about your life, but only  _ one  _ thing, what would it be?” he sounds excited. it’s kind of cute. 

yoongi opens his mouth, then puckers his lips, closes it. this is exactly the sort of taehyung bullshit that steals his breath away, making him feel dizzy. high on carbon dioxide. he tries to think about it, chooses different words and answers and weights them on his tongue, tastes them. the bitterness gives him chills.

“nothing.”

“what about your past? who were you in your first life. your true self.”

“well, if you can figure that one just from looking at my hand that’d be pretty cool. but there’s nothing i  _ actively  _ want to know.”

taehyung smiles just like yoongi had just passed a sort of test. it feels like it. his toes stop wriggling and a sort of weird feeling settles in the pit of yoongi’s stomach. like he was drunk on sunlight. he’s sort of sleepy now and the softness of the duvets of his bed are infuriatingly appealing. thus, taking advantage of the grip taehyung still has on his hand, yoongi uncrosses his legs and suddenly lets himself fall on the bed, dragging taehyung with him.

there’s a muffled hum coming from either of them, suffocated somewhere in the mess of limbs and stolen touches. somehow, they end up cuddling. taehyung’s long legs and demanding arms wrapped around a tiny yoongi. yoongi can’t see him like this, but he imagines the shadows on his face nonetheless, the golden hue of early sunset panting taehyung’s features and the shadows creeping from under his skin and falling asleep on his cheeks. he’s still holding yoongi’s hand.

“what else do you see there?” yoongi asks in a whisper, like he was setting too along the sun.

taehyung hums. caresses yoongi’s palm with a fingers. “that you’re pretty.”

glad that they’re not facing each other, yoongi presses his reddening cheeks into the pillow. “shut up.”

“you’re not following your passions. it’s pretty common, prefering to have a way to have to pay the bills rather than risk it all, but it’s hurting your heart. and hands. you have pianist hands, hyung. pretty pianist hands.” he presses his lips against yoongi’s nape, talking there like he was afraid the words would get lost otherwise. sewing them onto his skin, sending rushes of chills up and down yoongi’s skin. 

“how do you know that i play?”

“i can read you,” he says, words like kisses against yoongi’s neck.  _ fuck.  _ it’s not that just that is enough to turn him on, he’s not some sort of sex obsessed horny teen. his brows furrow. he must admit his dick works in mysterious ways, considering that his “wet dreams” consist of the depths of the ocean and a terrifying dinosaur fish. 

there’s a fading greenish bruise on the inside of taehyung’s right wrist. before he can think about it and possibly, horribly, talk himself out of it, yoongi presses the pad of his index finger against it. he can feel the faltering of taehyung’s breathing. he presses harder. there’s a hot sound trapped between taehyung’s vocal chords and yoongi is suddenly determined to let it out and eat it up. he turns around so that he can face him. there are leftover bruises all over his skin, if just he finds the right ones. thankfully, there’s a plum on peaking out from the loose collar of taehyung’s baggy beige shirt. it’s coronating his collarbone. 

“can i?” yoongi asks without telling exactly what he’s on. mostly because he himself has no fucking idea. nevertheless, taehyung hums and lets out a broken yes. he drags the collar of the shirt down, and then the presses the pads of his fingers on the bruise. 

“hyu--” taehyung has his eyes closed. his breathing is all sorts of fucked up. yoongi would be embarrassed to death about the fact that he’s already hard, except that he’s really fucking busy with other matters at the moment. he lifts his fingers, traces the form of the bruise, presses again. “harder, please.” yoongi stops and searches for taehyung’s eyes. there are webs casted all over his cheekbones, shadows sewed by his long dark eyelashes. yoongi wishes to count them. maybe another time. the concept of a future in which both of them coexist together makes yoongi forget how to breath for a moment. 

it’s hard to keep his mind focused on the moment. it’s a bit like falling upwards. a bit like when he forgets to take his adhd meds and his mind gets stuck in a limbo. the bruise is pretty, taehyung is pretty, and yoongi is pretty gay. and hard. and he finds out that taehyung’s skin tastes like late sunlight when he opens his mouth and presses his teeth right into the bruise. taehyung moans. at last. it’s exhilarating, somehow, the satisfaction of being the reason taehyung’s vocal cords gave up on keeping that silky sound caged. 

_ fuck, he’s so hot.  _ one of them thinks.  _ this is so hot.  _

“m-- hyun’-- more.” taehyung shifts and moves until they’re basically pressed together. “more. please, hyun’”

“anything, sunlight baby,” yoongi mumbles, teeth still pressed against his collarbone. he starts sucking the skin there, while in the meantimes his hands flee to search for more hidden treasures. they go under taehyung’s shirt and press into his little spots, play over his ribs with the same gentle hunger yoongi plays the piano. and he finds them, the little bastards, and presses into them hard, listens to the way taehyung unhinges his entire being under his hands. 

the day fades into a bleeding sunset, the same color of taehyung’s lips when yoongi kisses him and gets kissed back, hard and feverish. there’s no urgency though, and the whole thing leisurely shifts to lazy kissing and warm cuddling. sleepiness sets in the back of yoongi’s eyelids and his thoughts get half-hazy. 

before he can notice their lips are barely touching anymore and their hands are just keeping each other warm against the curtain of the night falling upon them. it’s nice. it’s rare. for humans to be able to exist together comfortably. yoongi abandons himself to the warmth of it all,  _ might as well sleep together at this point.  _

“hyung, what time is it?” taehyung mumbles, his voice is saccharine and sticky with sleep.

“dunno,” yoongi answers. “let me check.” and then he’s suddenly contorting his limbs to reach the damn nightstand. he’s sort of sure he left his phone there. found the little bastard, he checks the time. “9.12pm”

“shit!” taehyung rolls out of the bed, half-decking yoongi in the shin, and falls. ass flat on the floor. well, as much as kim taehyung’s ass can be called flat. he starts picking his stuff up from the nightstand.  _ when did he leave that there?  _ phone, lighter, cigarettes, weird wallet, a lime, the bitten end of a colored pencil. it’s blue. or whatever was left of the color. yoongi keeps lying in bed, confused and short on caffeine. “c’mon! hurry up! you’re not gonna miss it, are you?”

“what?”

“the protest! at the zoo!”  _ nope. not clicking.  _ “oh, hyung, you know. that protest the girls were organizing for zoe.”  _ shit. it’s today? _

“shit, it’s today?”

“yeah and it started exactly 12 minutes ago so get that pretty ass up, let’s go help them.”

unfortunately, yoongi assumes that by  _ helping them  _ taehyung means supporting the cause. you know, being there. so, with the wrong idea of his plans for the night, yoongi gets up, washes his face, and begs taehyung to stop somewhere on the way to the zoo to get coffee. 

//

“yoongi, faster!” taehyung yells, from a couple of meters ahead of him. the moon rays are falling onto him like raining ghosts. there’s something familiarly nostalgic about it, melancholic. taehyung, running away from danger and in front of him, asking yoongi to follow him quick, to not fall behind. it feels like a dejà vu. and it makes yoongi hurt in odd ways, like he was aching from another lifetime. 

_ it’s  _ hyung  _ for you,  _ yoongi thinks as he tries his best to not trip over his own feet and the gravel on the ground. he shouldn’t be thinking about all this weird stuff. the only thing he should, in fact, think about is saving his ass.  _ i’m so gonna get fired for this. maybe even arrested. jesus fucking christ.  _

“hyung! here!” taehyung screams and takes a turn for the left. for a moment yoongi can’t see him anymore and the adrenaline in his blood tastes as bitter as fear. he sprints forward and follows taehyung. here he is again, taehyung, panting and struggling to open a door. it’s the future new installation of the zoo.  _ the forgotten sea. how do you forget a whole sea?  _ yoongi thinks, before helping taehyung and finally, once the heavy door opens for them, and sliding inside. 

they allow themselves to rest a bit, at last. the room they’re in is huge, the walls look like diffident strangers, seeping away from them. most of them are made of glass and he can see something behind them. weird shaped shadows. he feels cold.

“holy fucking shit,” taehyung says and burst out laughing. he covers his mouth with his pretty hand and slim fingers but the laugh pushes trough the spaces between the fingers and echoes in the big room. yoongi slides down on the floor with his back pressed against the door and, listening to taehyung laugh, thinks about what the fuck happened tonight. 

they arrived at the zoo at 9.35pm. at that time the protest was already full on going and an entire crowd was gathered inside the zoo. he remembered the call seokjin had, the one he overheard with the not-girl-scouts, and how positive he was about allowing the protest. furrowing his brows, yoongi bit the straw in his mouth, then slurped the coffee he had gotten before coming there. 

the crowd was…  _ something.  _ there were teens with shirts with  _ save zoe  _ printed on them, kids running around, drag queens – there was a stage in front of the main building of the zoo and, currently, a drag queen was singing something about zebras – and a woman wearing a wasp costume. yoongi kept drinking his coffee. sometimes his hand would brush against taehyung’s. smiling, taehyung would call him a nerd before taking his hand in his to play with it gently. yoongi thought about the way they spent their day, together. maybe taehyung was trying to prey his secrets and doom from his fingers. yoongi was letting him. 

“so the rumors were true. they really came here.”

“uh?” yoongi asked, looking up at taehyung. he never really noticed before how tall taehyung is. “what are you talking about?”

he followed taehyung’s eyes. there was a group of people all gathered in a corner. they were near the  _ jupiter’s lifeless moons.  _ there was the picture of a kid in the hands of each of them. a little boy, showing his missing tooth with a little smile. there was also what yoongi supposed was another picture of the same boy. however, this time, he looked like a sleeping ghost. his body was on the ground and a white sheet was covering him. some of the hauntingly quiet protesters were holding a sign. it said,  _ # what about ian? _

“ian was the boy murdered by zoe?”

“if you could choose the way you die, how would you want it to happen?” taehyung asks.

yoongi stopped slurping the coffee, letting the bitter aftertaste fade into thoughts of death and blood and solitude. “not alone.” when he thinks about death, he sees an empty wooden chair, a dirty white curtain, a pale hand, loneliness. that’s what scares him the most about dying. “i don’t think i really care about the how. i just wish i won’t be alone when it happens.” he got back at drinking his coffee loudly. “what about you?”

“i want to kill myself.” the snap of yoongi’s head was so sudden that a lighting of pain shot through his neck. taehyung laughed. “i’m not suicidal, don’t worry. i don’t want to die. but i’ll have to and i’m curious. how does it feel to end your own life? all that blood, where does it go? the words, the thoughts, where does it all go?” before yoongi’s mind could even process the words, let alone come up with an answer, taehyung was speaking again. “hey, can i taste it?” he said, nodding at the coffee.

yoongi looked down, then back at him. “you said you don’t like coffee.” taehyung smiled, leaned down and kissed yoongi. softly. like he was a fragile thing. “what was that for?” yoongi asked, words struggling to form on his lips stretched into a gummy smile.

taehyung seriously thought about it. or at least, he really looked like he did. “i like you, hyung.” there was a hue of peachy blush blossoming on his cheekbones as he was biting a little smile down. then, he nodded to himself, in a sort of personal acknowledgment. 

on the contrary, yoongi isn’t good at being so open with his words. so vulnerable. he’s better at other things, in different ways. moreover, words were little tricky bastards. but he’s good with his hands so, he dragged taehyung down with his hands and kissed him. short and sweet. taehyung tasted like caramel candies.

“gross.”

rolling his eyes was an instinctive reaction to the sound of jeniffer’s voice.  _ what are you doing here?  _ he almost asked, before remembering that the not-girl-scouts where the ones to organize the protest in the first place. “it doesn’t look like a protest.”

“it’s a rally, moron.”

“looks like a party to me.”

“don’t we all want a party when the funeral ends?”

yoongi turned to look at taehyung. that was a weird thing to say, but at this point even his surprise was contained. 

“okay, the plan sets in motion in ten minutes. be sure to not being followed,” jennifer intimated. one of the other girls nodded her head energetically.  _ plan? followed? what the fuck is she talking about? _

“what are you talking about?” yoongi asked, making everyone turn to look at him. it made him feel uncomfortable, like he’d just said something gigantically embarrassing and now everyone was trying to make him want to forget he exists.

taehyung caressed the back of his hand with his thumb. “we’re gonna help them to save zoe.” the intonation made it sound like a question.

“if you are set on being a moron feel free to not meddle with our business, but don’t you dare—” jennifer came closer, towering over yoongi with her presence and the authority in her voice, despite being way smaller than him physically, “ruin my plan.”

“what’s the plan anyway?”

“we’re going to take zoe and make her escape the zoo,” one of the twins answered. yoongi squinted at her. he noticed that she had darker hair than her twin sister and she was slightly taller. not that it mattered.  _ wait— _

“ _ what? _ ” he snapped his head at taehyung, searching for the comfort of common fucking sense, only to find a dreamy haze covering his eyes. looked like he was the only one using his head. properly. “that’s ridiculous! i’m not doing this. i could get fired, jesus christ! also how exactly are you even thinking of doing it?”

the smile on jennifer’s face was unsettling. “that’s one of the pros of the rally. everyone’s going to be busy here and all the security is stationed around the amusement area where the rally is going to make sure shit doesn’t happen. that’s why we’re going to leave.” seeing that yoongi still wasn’t following, she sighed dramatically. “remember the hole in the fence we made the other night? we’re going to leave the rally and go back from there.”

“why?”

“god, are you really that stupid?” jennifer rolled her eyes. yoongi couldn’t remember any other time he wanted to punch a twelve years old girl. “the zoo is separated from the amusement park by a door with a passcode. which none of us knows. however, the hole in the fence allows us to directly enter the zoo without passing through the amusement park.”

well, it made enough sense. but this was still absolutely fucking messed up. “and pass right under the director’s office. what if he notices us?” jennifer smiled. it gave yoongi the creeps. 

“that’s why the rally isn’t going to go smoothly.” lifting her tiny wrist, she checked the time. “okay. we only have five minutes left before it starts.”  _ before  _ what  _ starts?  _ “when i throw the molotov you all run away to the street and wait for me—”

“a  _ molotov _ ?” yoongi sure wasn’t exactly an expert on whatever all of this was, but he was pretty sure a twelve years old girl wasn’t shouldn’t be throwing molotov cocktails. “what if you hurt someone?”

“like i would do that,” she retorted in a mocking voice. “i’m not a moron.”

underneath all of this bullshit, there were bits of truth picking at his skin like broken glass. the rebellion, the desire to save someone from an unfair and unjust destiny, the meticulous preparation of such a messy deal. the rawness of the goodness. well,  _ fuck it.  _ if yoongi is rising then he’ll do it with his hands full of action.

“i’ll do it. just tell me exactly what you are expecting from this.”

“we throw a molotov cocktail at our crowd. apart from the fire and the panic, they’ll accuse the suppression supporters and start a riot. that’s gonna keep the security occupied and they’ll be forced to call the director out to help suppress the mess.”

“sound fun,” taehyung said, the lightness of feather in his voice. like he was choking on a murder. 

“yoongi—”

“how do you even know my name?” he asked. the answer arrived in the form of a glass bottle. it had been a long time since the last time he’s had one of those in his hands. the not-girl-scouts were surrounding him, covering the bottle from public view. jennifer nodded. yoongi took one deep breath and he could already savour it. the crackling of the fire, the smell of smoke, the adrenaline sparkling in his arms like champagne was breaking his bones. he looked around, scanning the crowd to find the perfect point in order to not hurt anyone. and then, the girls and taehyung were running, a countdown got mixed with the sound of laughter and disco music in the background. yoongi clicked on his lighter and threw the bottle. then, he ran.

he tried to remember the exact spot of the fence that was cut but his memory started flickering at the same tempo of the suddenly flickering lampposts.  _ fuck. _ on and off. on and off. on and off. off. he took another deep breath while running, the cold air of the night pierced his lungs. then, the figure of taehyung bloomed from behind a flashlight.

“c’mon hyung! hurry up!” he screamed and disappeared. yoongi sprinted, crouched down, and passed through the fence. they were inside. he could hear heated screams from the distance and the leaves crunching under their messy feet.

“hurry up! we don’t have much time until the protest gets under control!” jennifer shouted from a few meters ahead of them. 

he had caught up with taehyung now and the other took his hand. the lock was sweaty and trembling with adrenaline. the night around them was exhilarating. fuck, now yoongi wanted to kiss him again, press into the canvas of his skin, fingers for brushes and whispered secrets for sketches. taehyung must have felt the same way. not that yoongi could tell. he just sort of—felt it. being so caught up in his head, he didn’t notice the absence of light in seokjin’s office. 

then, they stopped. yoongi looked around and noticed that they weren’t exactly at zoe’s cage. “what now?”

“we need the keys for the cage, moron.” jennifer crouched and took her neon pink backpack off of her shoulders, opening it on the ground in front of her. it’s not like yoongi  _ wanted  _ to look at its insides. but shit, that thing was full of the weirdest stuff. in comparison, taehyung’s pockets were mediocre entertainment. when he took his gaze off of her backpack, he noticed that she was forcing the security office’s lock. his fingers were trembling safely in taehyung’s hand. “got it! wait for me here.”

“i’m glad we’re doing this,” taehyung suddenly told him. “my teen years were weird. i’ve never done anything like this before.” then he leaned closer so that the girls couldn’t hear him. his mouth was so close that his hot breath made yoongi shiver. “when we’re done here i want you to fuck me, hard. please, hyung.”

“i got them! let’s go! her cage is right behind the monkeys’ one!” 

and as soon as yoongi’s mind rebooted here they were, running again. that’s a lot of exercise, he’ll need some rest and suspiciously not poisoned cake after this. jennifer was hesitating in front of the cage. “i wish it wasn’t too late,” she said, playing with the keys. the sound of metal tinkling against metal echoed in the empty zoo.

“what are you talking about?” one of the other not-girl-scouts asked. she couldn’t stop shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “let’s hurry up and save zoe!”

“zoe is already dead!” jennifer screamed. the monkeys in the cage behind them woke up at the sound and started making noise some noise. yoongi was getting nervous. “she’s dead.” the keys almost didn’t make a sound when she inserted them and opened the zebra’s cage. she took a bigger flashlight –  _ what the fuck does she even have in that backpack  _ – and entered, closing the door behind her for some reason. 

the rest of them just stood there, making sure to not breathe too loudly. none of them knew exactly why they were just waiting outside instead of, like, doing something, but there was a halo of fear and premonition weighting over their heads and around their necks, like nooks, keeping them grounded to the floor. yoongi sort of wanted to throw up. it must have been the cocktail of fear and adrenaline, poisoned excitement. 

then, they heard crying coming from cage. human crying.  _ jennifer.  _

yoongi pushed past the girls and entered the cage. it was dark at first, darker than outside, as if the night had decided to come to sleep in here, all condensed into thick darkness. yoongi flashed his light around the big cage. it was bigger than he imagined. yes, he works at the zoo, but he’s ever come to see the animals, the cruelty of keeping them caged pisses him off. the pay’s good though. his dignity floats somewhere in the middle. he took a couple of steps forwards.

“jennifer?” he took more steps forward, towards the sound of muffled crying. soon he heard his steps multiply. he sighed and keeping his eyes in front of him he said, “you should have stayed outside and waited. called for help if needed.”

“jennifer? are you okay?” one of the twins called. the crying was becoming louder. or they were closer. 

and then, just behind a corner, they found jennifer. she was sitting on the floor, next to zoe. her face was dirty with something. something black that was dripping rhythmically on her not-girl-scout uniform. the zebra was pacing in front of her. yoongi’s mind couldn’t find a memory containing instruction for what the fuck to do when a girl has been attacked by a horse-like creature and you need to both save her and protect more girls from said creature. and himself too. and his boyfriend— _ he’s not my boyfriend— _

“okay, jennifer. I need you to calmly stand up, okay? we’re gonna get you. zoe is not gonna hurt you—”

“zoe is dead! she’s dead!” jennifer sobbed. the tone didn’t seem to please the zebra though, which started pacing faster than before. there was something hypnotizing about the whole scene but it’s not like yoongi had the time to write a thesis about it at the moment. he was trying to think and do something but shit, what was the right thing to do? he gulped dryly and stretched a hand for jennifer to take, walking closer to her.

“hyung,” taehyung suddenly called. his voice was normal. which was not normal, considering the situation. “there’s something weird about the zebra.”

“i don’t care, at the moment i’m trying to keep everyone alive—”

“i don’t want to die,” one of the twins said. the one that never talks.

“oh, shut up. no one’s going to die,” jennifer retorted.

yoongi’s head was spinning that bit enough to make him wish he’d never get into this mess in the first place. his eyes darted to the zebra, just for a moment. that bit enough to notice that there was something wrong with it, indeed. “what the fuck—”

jennifer stood up. her hands were dirty of something black and white and stripes of color were smudged all over her face when he dried her tears away with the back of her hands. she looked like a fucked up zembra. yoongi would have sworn he could hear taehyung suppressing a chuckle somewhere behind him. somewhere too far away to hold him close. 

“zoe is dead,” jennifer said. again. then, before yoongi could stop her, she launched herself towards the animal and hugged it by its neck. then, her hands slipped down, and she did something similar to caressing its fur. except that yes, there was something definitely wrong with the zebra. first of all,  _ that’s not a fucking zebra— _ “this isn’t zoe. it’s a dwarf horse named barta that was painted to look like a zebra.” she caressed the fur of the animal. then, she took some feed out of her pocket and let barta eat from her small hand. 

“okay, what the fuck?”

“seconded,” taehyung said. he was having fun.

jennifer sighed. “zoe is dead. she was old and sick and the stress of the situation must have been the end of her. i noticed she wasn’t her a few weeks ago and here,” she shows her hands, full of white and black paint, “is the proof. i know barta because when i was little because i used to always come to feed her.” there are leftovers of a smile stuck in the corners of her mouth, sad enough to go unnoticed. 

“but why did they—”

“money. the zoo has so many more visitors because of the whole  _ murderous zebra _ thing.” people all love to bath in the scent of tragedy. it is intrinsic to being human, perhaps, this toxic infatuation with all that is cruel and raw and, sometimes, evil. “so, when zoe died, the director replaced her with barta to keep tourists coming. and this is why we’re here tonight.”

yoongi was now standing a bit further away from the horse. he’s never been a fan of horses. they creep him out. “so the plan was never to save zoe. not the real one, at least.”

jennifer nodded. “i can’t let them suppress this innocent animal for no reason. c’mon, let’s get her out of here.” using the feed in her hands, she started guiding the animal out of the cage. the rest of them were sort of lost, scattered around like memories from a day that never stuck. then, their moth feet silently followed the flashlight jennifer was pointing in front of her. 

it was only now that yoongi noticed the tears shining on taehyung’s cheek like silver veins. “hey,” he took his hand in his, at last. “what’s wrong? everything’s working out, we got the horse and now we’re gonna get it out of her.”

taehyung sniffled a little. then chuckled at himself. “zoe’s dead.” remembering what taehyung had told him about her, yoongi sincerely apologized and tighten his grip, hoping it was enough to comfort him a little. but right then, like in a petty dejà vu, they heard a cry. human crying.  _ jennifer.  _ he  _ knew  _ something was gonna go wrong with that damn horse. they rush to exit the cage, feet stumbling on what ifs.

“good evening everyone.”  _ well, shit.  _ seokjin, the director of the zoo kim seokjin, was standing in front of them. he was also holding a rifle, but that’s not an information yoongi was ready to deal with just yet. he would have came back to that later, when his mind will be more prone to thinking properly. 

“shit!” jennifer exclaimed.

“shit,” everyone seconded, minus the twin that never speaks.

“what is happening here?” seokjin asked, in the tone of someone who didn’t quite get the joke. yoongi thought that the joke was more or less everything that has happened to him in this shithole of a town since he had gotten here. that sounded like a lot to explain in a single sentence though. seokjin looked at jennifer, who had managed to climb on the horse somewhen. “what are you kids doing?” 

“the right thing, that’s what we’re doing.”

seokjin lowered the rifle a bit, as if the words pronounced by the girl had fallen right on top of its metal and it was now too heavy to hold up. “the right thing. you think you’re being a hero, congrats little girl. but are you ready to face the consequences of your actions? but of course, they won’t ask you to do that. i’ll be the one forced to make up for that. what do you think will happen when you take barta out of here?”

“she’ll be safe from murder.”

seokjin sighed. there were a few too many layers of tiredness on him person. yoongi almost felt guilty. “what about all the other animals?”

“what does that have anything to do with—”

“our marvelous murderous zebra and her downfall is the reason this place is still alive. people are paying to come see the villainous zebra. and people will pay for her  _ funeral _ , for a new zebra, for merch in memory of zoe _.  _ if i let you leave with barta then all of this money will disappear from between my fingers and i’ll have to close the zoo. what do you think happens to the animals of a zoo when it falls bankrupt?”

“no—” horror was slicing her voice like a harsh wind.

seokjin nodded. then, he lifts the rifle up.

“you wouldn’t shoot a twelve-year-old girl,” yoongi said, only certain of his uncertainty. 

raising his brows and tilting his head to the side, seokjin explained, “there aren’t bullets in here. just sedative shots which i’ll shoot towards the animal. and if a girl scout will happen to be in the way then it’s not my fault, isn’t it? i should be denouncing you for trespassing anyway.” he looked around at all of them. “should i do that?” his brows raised even higher when he seemed to remember something. “oh, and violence. i bet that molotov was your idea as well.” 

there was only one decision to take here.

“run!” jennifer shouted. “fucking run!” barta neighed and that was enough of a motivator. all of them scattered in different directions, except for yoongi and taehyung who started running zigzag towards nothing. towards the building that will host  _ the forgotten sea  _ exhibition. 

“what the hell are you laughing for?” yoongi manages to ask, before erupting in a laugh himself. he realizes he hasn’t heard a single shot yet, but then he realizes that he’s not quite sure whether sedative rifles make noise. he closes his eyes shut and presses his back hard against the cold door of the building. it was a miracle that it wasn’t locked. he thinks he’s going to scream. at least two of the things he’s done tonight are illegal and if for some unexplainable reasons his boss doesn’t call the police on him, he’ll definitely lose his job.  _ shit.  _ he was almost totally used to actioning the  _ jupiter’s lifeless moons _ , at reminding the kids  _ to please keep your damn little hands inside _ . even at the back pain he’d feel after walking on his fours under the rollercoaster’s engine to search for the lost toys. once he even found a couple of coins down there. 

the back of his eyelids is flashing images of his life during the past weeks, and yoongi is so absorbed into it that he didn’t hear taehyung calling him. it is only when taehyung crouches down in front of him, so close their noses are touching, startling yoongi awake. 

“taehyungie?”

“dreamboy,” taehyung answers, with eyes reflecting a light yoongi can’t find. his breath is hot. yoongi wants to kiss him. sometimes it’s hard to talk to him with words only. yoongi is so much better with his hands. 

“what?”

“come with me. look,” taehyung whispers. yoongi’s skin is a highway of shivers. there are blue neon lights behind what yoongi finally notices are two huge displays, spread all over the room. the color is pretty on taehyung and reminds him of their weird date, the one with wolves changing them and photos of the blueprints of taehyung’s body. yoongi bites his inner cheek, trying to not think about how well the ocean was constructed around taehyung’s skin tone, around the fluidity of his hair, the sensuality of his hands, the depth of his soul. 

_ shut up, this is not the time to get horny,  _ he tells himself, trying to not focus too long on the warmth of taehyung’s hand around his wrist so pale it looks almost translucent under this light. he follows him though, his feet moving without consciousness.

“dreamboy,” he whispers again, in awe, indicating the display. yoongi finally turns his mind away from taehyung and looks.  _ holy shit. _

“holy shit,” he says. taehyung nods. in front of them, right behind the huge glass of the displays, there are the rests of two gigantic dinosaur fishes, stuck in eternity a few inches away from each other. there’s a little display that explains the exhibition. “apparently our dreamboy is called  _ dunkleosteus.  _ long time ago this part of our country used to be submerged by the sea—”

“ _ the forgotten sea.  _ that’s how you forget a whole sea.”

“yeah,” yoongi agrees and chuckles. he’s not sure what the exact reaction should be. it feels like one of his dreams, cold water hugging him and a huge dinosaur fish ready to eat him.

“hyung,” taehyung calls. he’s not looking at him.

“yeah?”

“i think they are the ones that got us together,” he says, clearly talking about the fossils. 

“the dead fishes?”

“ _ hyung, _ ” taehyung suddenly  _ urges.  _ he turns around and puts his hands on yoongi’s shoulders, chews on his personal space and holds tight, like he’s afraid to drown. “don’t you understand? our dreams, your job, the zebra, everything is fucking connected.” yoongi’s hands automatically fall on taehyung’s hips. a little accident happens there, when he gets so invested in what the other is saying that he sorts of want to make his own body flow, go higher, and his hands go in a direction that should be upwards, but get entangled in taehyung’s shirt and end up slipping underneath it. his skin is hot. feverish. it’s getting harder to breathe and for a moment yoongi ridiculously fears that they’re gonna drown in here. “it was all destiny. and it started millions of years ago, when these two fishes died so fucking close to each other to face longing for eternity.” his breath is shortening, chest rising and falling quickly like there’s not enough oxygen in the room. he keeps coming closer, as if that would help to ease something, a certain urgency bubbling in their blood. “all for us to meet and end up here together and— _ ah _ .”

yoongi’s heart falters at the moan. he realizes his hands had kept slipping further up under taehyung’s chest, remembering the positions of his fading bruises the way he does with piano notes. taehyung makes a beautiful song. he presses harder into that one under his left ribs and taehyung shakes in his hands. “for us”

“yeah— _ hyung. _ ” 

yoongi kisses him. or it’s taehyung to kiss him, it doesn’t really matter. they kiss under the blue neon lights of the exhibition, like they were kissing under a sky imploding, bright and dark and hot and cold and messy. his fingers play with taehyung’s ribs, feel the goosebumps on his skin, and go even higher. when he pinches his left nipple, taehyung lets his head fall in the crook of yoongi’s neck, moaning hard.

“shh, you don’t want anyone to hear you?” yoongi asks

taehyung bites his neck and palms yoongi’s hard dick through his terribly old jeans. “what if someone does, though? do you want more spectators? someone to tell you how good you’re treating me?” there’s a smile in his voice. it turns yoongi on even more. he plays with the nub of taehyung’s nipple with one hand, while the other, instead of going to his pants, finds taehyung’s jaw. strong and neon blue. he holds it tight enough to hurt. 

“tell me what you want, dream baby.”

“ _ hyung— _ hit me.” he’s unzipping his own jeans and letting them fall on the floor.  _ fuck.  _ his dick is bigger than yoongi imagined. and he  _ had  _ imagined, often and pomegranate dirty in shame. it springs against his naked stomach. “if you’re okay with that. hyung,  _ please.  _ hit me hard.”

for a moment only both of yoongi’s hands leave taehyung’s body and bask in the warmth of the air around them. then, he grabs taehyung’s huge cock with one hand, grip tight and bordering on painful, hopefully. the other hand fends the air and punches taehyung right on the blue of his jaw.  _ fuck _

“ _fuck,”_ they both say, panting. frantically, taehyung unzips and pulls yoongi’s pants down. “can i please— _fuck,_ i want to be inside you so bad, hyung. do you—"

nodding, yoongi reaches for his own ass and starts fingering himself, not wasting any time. he wants to feel taehyung inside of him, around him, everywhere. he stops him though, when taehyung wants to knell and suck him. holding him tight by his jaw, he asks, “what do you think you’re doing? you’re not touching anything until i tell you, okay?”

“ _ yes, yes, yes, hyung. fuck.” _

with two fingers up his ass, yoongi lets his jaw go. his hand travels through taehyung’s body and stops to grab his ass with his fingers, catching the half-scream from taehyung’s tongue with his own wet lips. after he’s fingered himself wit three fingers and slapped taehyung’s dick, yoongi stops to breathe for a moment. 

“ _ hyung—please—”  _

yoongi lets himself get manhandled and lifted. his back gets pressed against the cold glass. he wraps his legs around taehyung’s body, locking his feet. taehyung is panting, face pressed against his neck, waiting. “fuck me, dream boy.” and taehyung does. the first thrust inside of yoongi is harsh and fast. and so is the second one and the third one and all of the next ones. yoongi is glad taehyung is holding him up by his ass, his strength enough for both of them. “want to see a canvas on you— _ ah.  _ want— does my dream boy want my hands on him? bruises so pretty you’ll never want them to go away?”

he punches him. again. taehyung falters his thrusts for a moment, moaning so hard that the fear of being caught falls on them in the form of shivers raining. and then they find a rhythm, between the thrusts and punches and slaps and bites and moans so pretty and so blue. 

“can i cum?” taehyung asks, softly, stroking yoongi’s dick. yoongi just nods and groans when he feels it. there’s cum on his shirt and his ass, dripping all over their legs. 

taehyung laughs. weakly, tiredly. “we’re gross.”

“absolutely disgusting,” yoongi agrees. 

when they’re both on their feet and putting their clothes back on, yoongi feels weirdly relieved. he zips his pants and fails at cleaning the cum on his shirt.  _ whatever, at least I look better than him.  _ he laughs looking at taehyung. a blissed out and beaten up man. his lower lips started bleeding at a certain point, so he’s been sucking on it since then. it looks like he’s pouting. 

“what do you think happened? out there?”

“to be honest, I don’t really wanna know. I just want to go on a walk to get fresh air, then go home and make myself some coffee and compose.”

“you compose?”

“haven’t in years. but yeah.” something did happen. a lot has happened. there’s the rally, the protest, the rifle, the not-girl-scouts, the damn horse, his job. there’s a lot to worry about and that’s the last thing he wants to do now. maybe it’s the effect of some magical antique destiny fishes, maybe just the great sex, but he feels calm and at peace with where in the universe he finds himself at the moment.

taehyung nods. “okay, you do that. i’ll wait for you home. i promise this time i’ll make a decent coffee.” yoongi doesn’t quite get it. until he does. and blushes, obviously. taehyung doesn’t miss it. wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, the deepening blossoming of his cheeks, the nervous scratching of his neck, the unstill pupils. “we could sleep together. as in  _ actual  _ sleep. it’s been a day and i don’t want to be home alone now.”

“neither i.”

“good. then, go for a walk—do you know the little street behind the zoo that ends up in the big road? the rich district? i hate them,  _ that,  _ but there’s a pretty view from there.” then, as if he’s done it a million and one times, taehyung kisses yoongi on his cheek, waves, and leaves the closed exhibition. 

feeling half-drunk and more alive than it should be humanly allowed, yoongi listens to taehyung’s advice and follows the street that brings him to the rich district. there are cherry trees at both sides of the road so he doesn’t grasp which view he should be seeing, but walking uphill is making him short-breathed. as if he wasn’t the only one out of batteries, the streetlights start flickering as soon as the trees disappear from the road. they flicker and flicker, on and off, before going completely off. then, yoongi hears a muffled cussing.

“son of a fucking bitch.” looking up, he notices a ledge and a man on it, fiddling with that big box full of wires that you can see on certain lampposts. the man seems to notice yoongi’s presence. looking down, he clears his voice and apologizes. “I’m sorry if I scared you, young man.”

“no, it’s okay.” things slowly catch up on him. then, all at once. “what are you doing?”

“changing the streetlights’—well, lights.”

“and you’ve been doing this around all of jihangjae. right?” the man nods.  _ fucking well.  _ yoongi wants to laugh. from up here on the hill he can see the entire city, sleeping at patches, glistening in waves. it’s pretty.

“what a pretty view, uh?” the man asks. yoongi almost agrees with him, but then his eyes follow the man’s and catch on what is the beauty of the view. taehyung was right. the sky here is so clean that the stars are shining like a myriad of eyes, waiting for us to look away to blink. 

“yeah,” yoongi says. “beautiful.”

“you know, there’s this quote from a poet—i don’t remember his name but— _ and do we waste all our wishes on stars when there’s all of that space in between. _ ”

yoongi wishes the man goodnight and walks back home, under the eyes of the night.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos if u enjoyed this piece and remember i live for comments  
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